


Wear Your Ruin

by Synonym_Roll



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Sex, Feelings, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marquis de Lafayette is a good boyfriend, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synonym_Roll/pseuds/Synonym_Roll
Summary: Everyone goes through battles in their lives that leave them wounded, that give them scars to carry internally or externally for the rest of their lives. Most people trudge on anyway. Alexander Hamilton was one such person, leaving behind his near-sunken island home for New York University, a career in literature, new friends, and a fantastic boyfriend. However, one cannot always just dismiss the past and pretend it never happened.Too caught up in his lover's hands on his skin, Hamilton finds himself in a position where his scars must be addressed, and Lafayette has to assure Alexander that he is still the apple of his eye, ravaged flesh or not.





	Wear Your Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for mentions character injury, death, traumatic events, negative self image, and a little bit of PTSD. 
> 
> I know that in the song "Hurricane", it says he was seventeen when the hurricane hit Nevis, but as Alexander is only nineteen in this AU, I pushed it back a bit!
> 
> Title taken from a poem that I cannot seem to find! If anyone knows which one I'm referencing, please let me know! Also, Please forgive my mistakes and let me know where they are. I have no Beta. Constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Applying to NYU had to have been the best decision Alexander had ever made in his life, he thinks, as his back is slammed into a door and fingers grope at the fabric of his shirt. Most people in his position would argue that obviously  _this_ was the best decision he'd ever made, but as the aforementioned position would be impossible without his having applied to New York University, he thought his stance was justified. The thought was amusing, and he couldn't quite help the soft huff of laughter that escaped him. At that, ravenous lips pulled back from his own and a voice inquired, "Distracted,  _mon chéri?_ _"_ Those lips didn't stray far, moving to kiss his neck and jaw, murmuring as they went. "Am I not enough to occupy your brilliant mind, even now? _"_ His reprimand was a playful one, and Alex only laughed again.

 

"Perhaps, then, you should be trying harder, Lafayette." His challenge was met with a growl, and lips were on his again, fierce now in their onslaught. Hands slipped under the hems of his clothing, into the back pockets of his jeans, and Alex scrambled blindly for the door knob to let them into their dorm room, because he knew if they didn't, they may just put on a show right then and there. The surface behind him fell away, and they were stumbling again as they had been just minutes before, too greedy to part from one another on the journey to their bed-  _which was too damn long anyway, why did  they have to go all the way back?_  Alex wanted Lafayette desperately, and he made his position clear by winding his fingers into the bound curls and tugging just so. 

 

His breath caught, then picked up. Alex counted that as a victory.

 

Suddenly, his legs were out from under him, and he found himself flat on the bed with his lover atop him, teeth coming into play along the column of his throat. With a small smile, Alexander twisted his fingers in Lafayette's hair again and urged him to bite harder, to do more. God, he needed more. To his great displeasure, though, Lafayette sat back instead. "Patience,  _Alexandre,_ " he said with a grin, and tugged his shirt over his head. Alex shivered at the pronunciation of his name, and drank in the other man's form hungrily, admiring the faint dusting of hair across supple skin, almost set aglow in the lamplight.

 

Lamplight.

 

God, why were the lights on?

 

He wasn't given a chance to focus on it, the Frenchman back in his arms within moments, his hands attacking Alex's belt. "See something you like,  _chéri?"_ He is asked, and he manages a laugh.

 

"Always, _mon cœur_ ," He responds, leaning up to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. His heart ached for how beautiful his lover was, for how flawless. Did he know what a raw deal he was getting? No, no, he couldn't. Usually, when they were like this, they were in a half-clothed rush or it was pitch-dark. They'd only been together a few weeks, Lafayette didn't spend the night, so there was no need to worry about mornings. Alex hid his flinch in the curve of Lafayette's shoulder.

 

He let Lafayette toss away both of their pants with little resistance, leaving them only in their boxers, but Alex halted him when Lafayette tugged at his shirt. "Why don't we just leave that, babe?" He suggested softly, leaning in to capture another kiss. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little impatient." Please, just accept it and move on. Don't push.

 

But Lafayette would push. It was part of the reason they worked so well together. "It's just a shirt,  _mon petit chou._ It will take but a moment." He reached for the hem again, but again was halted. Now he knew for certain that something was wrong, but he couldn't determine what. It would hardly be the first time they'd been naked together, and he expressed as much. "If it is something to do with your body, you've nothing to be ashamed of. I am quite fond of all of you,  _chéri."_ His reassurances only seemed to frustrate Alexander, to his dismay.

 

"Just drop it," Alex snapped, adjusting his shirt uncomfortably. "It has nothing to do with any of that, I just don't want to take off the shirt."

 

"And why not?" Alexander had never seemed to protest against undressing before. Now, he averted his eyes. What was he hiding?

 

"Damn it, Gilbert, either drop it or turn off the damn lights, or leave!" Shit. He hadn't meant to lose his cool over it, not that completely. There was no immediate response from Lafayette, and Alex sighed, pushing the other man off of his lap so he could sit up.  _Damn it._ This was not how he'd wanted this conversation to go. God, he hadn't wanted to have this conversation. He felt his lover shift on the bed next to him, and he hunched in on himself further, dragging frustrated fingers through his hair.

 

" _Alexandre..._ " That voice, always so gentle. Alex didn't want to hear it, but he said nothing as Lafayette settled in behind him, wrapping himself around his lover, kissing the back of his neck. " _Mon petit chou. Mon chéri._ Talk to me, won't you? I don't understand." Still, Alex said nothing. "You have never before had a problem with our being undressed when making love. What is different this time,  _chéri?_ Help me to understand you." His lips were on the nape of Alex's neck again, so damn tender that his breathe caught, and his chest ached.

 

"...the lights," he forced himself to mumble, decidedly not sinking in to the warmth pressed against his back. He didn't want comfort. He didn't need it.

 

If it had been anyone else, they might not have caught it, but Lafayette was listening. He was puzzled. "Alex! Surely you know you have nothing to be ashamed of, yes?" He found his lover to be immensely beautiful, hadn't he made that clear? " _Mon chou,_ the sight of your body would be the farthest thing from displeasing to me..." Gently, his hands caressed Alexander's sides in a comforting sweep.

 

Alex flinched away from Lafayette's touch involuntarily, and shook his head. He didn't want to explain, but what choice did he have? It wasn't as though it was an issue he could avoid indefinitely, tonight had only proven that. He took a deep breath and braced himself, before speaking slowly, softly. "When I was fifteen, a hurricane destroyed my town. I didn't drown. I couldn't seem to die." 

 

Lafayette said nothing in response. He knew that much. Alexander had told Lafayette and the rest of their friends some of his background in their first semester of acquaintanceship. 

 

"There was so much water... but it wasn't blue or green or clear. It was almost black, and thick. I couldn't see through it. I remember that much. And it was so damn strong..." He shivered, trying to force away the chill that wanted to overtake him. He could almost feel the cold sludge lapping at his feet and legs again, trying to drag him under. Would have dragged him under, if it weren't for- "I was in the lower level of an older building. Stupid move. Some things gave way and I got pinned under it. My lower back. Not enough to crush me, luckily, but..." The water tried to drag him under, drove the debris deeper, wrenched it up the length of his back. He shuddered, violently, phantom spasms raking the muscles in his back were they'd been gouged by the wood and tile. Lafayette wrapped his arms more tightly around him, but Alex barely felt it. 

 

"I was there for a while." Until the water died down, until they could send out rescue parties. He remembers hearing the screams of people who suffered similarly, remembers the wailing of the people who discovered them. He couldn't get it out of his head. The sound echoed and echoed, alongside the lullaby his mother would sing before she- "The doctors did the best they could, stitched me up nicely," he finished. " But it still scarred, and it's rather ugly. No one should have to see that. It's usually dark when we... so I didn't think it would be a problem before. I'm sorry for not telling you, Laf. I can understand if..."

 

Lafayette stiffened in silent rage, for all the things that had happened to his beloved, for all the pain he'd been through, and for the implication that Lafayette would no longer want him because it would mean sharing this pain. He voiced none of this. "May I see,  _Alexandre?"_ He asked instead. There was a long moment of tense silence before Alex disentangled himself from Lafayette's limbs and stood. He didn't look at Lafayette. He didn't speak. He was too busy trying to shake away the biting chill of black water as he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, hanging his head in shame.

 

To his credit, Lafayette did not gasp, nor make any other sound that could be construed as disagreeable. The scars were silver in some places, a ruddy red in others, showing which areas were more severe and which were slighter. There were two thick stripes, almost parallel, down the length of Alexander's back, from the lumbar curve to just below his shoulder blades. Those were obviously the worst wounds. They were raked over by smaller, thinner slashes that curved over Alex's ribs as well as his back. It was a brutal sight.

 

Lafayette slipped off the bed and walked up behind Alexander, placing his hands on the skin of his waist. Alex jerked, but didn't turn around and didn't push him away. " _Mon petit lion,"_ he whispered. "You are so brave, to have been through so much and still keep fighting. Your scars do not dampen your beauty or worth,  _mon cœur._ They simply prove that you have outlived the unimaginable. You are not ruined. Your storms simply put wind in the sails of your ship,  _chéri."_ He leaned down to nuzzle a silver line upon Alexander's shoulder. "You are magnificent." His lips traced the line further down to the tip of one of the larger scars, and he traced it carefully, lovingly.

 

The ache that had been present in Alexander's chest from the moment he realized the lights were on now blossomed into full anguish, his shoulder shaking as he took his lover's acceptance and affection in disbelief. This man. This wonderful, gentle, beautiful man. How could he take each of Alex's flaws in stride like this, when Alexander could only barely accept them himself, at the best of times?  _My little lion,_ Lafayette had called him, called him brave and beautiful and worthy, and Alex just listened to his murmuring in silence for a long while before the gratitude was too much. 

He turned and pressed his mouth to Lafayette's, soft, an echo of a kiss. And, as always, his lover accepted it. Knew him, knew what it meant, knew what he needed. Gentle hands caressed his scars as they embraced, languidly parting lips while Lafayette assured Alexander that he still very much desired him, still very much found him beautiful, if not more so now. It wasn't long before they found themselves back in the bed, the lights still on, Alexander's scars still exposed. It didn't change anything. Not the way Lafayette touched him, not the way they quipped back and forth between heated kisses. Soon, Alex couldn't concentrate on why his scars had been a concern in the first place. All he could pay attention to was the slick slide of their skin together, the sweltering press of his lover's body against his own, the agonizing rapture of each moment. A melody of keening laments and moans coupled with gasps and the shuffle of sheets to make a beautiful symphony that swelled into a great crescendo, the blood rushing in Alexander's ears drowning out all but Lafayette's cries, until it died off to a soft rhythm of laboured breathing. 

 

After a long, peaceful pause, Lafayette raises his head up from where he'd been resting against Alexander's chest, and says, "I look forward to making love with the lights on more frequently,  _mon petit lion._ You look quite beautiful in the throes of passion." Alex only laughed and hit his lover with a pillow, before settling in. He was drained.

 

It was the first time Lafayette stayed the night.

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, Lafayette is an absolute sap, so he calls Alexander by a number of pet names.
> 
> Mon chéri: My darling  
> Mon petit chou: My little cream puff (He does not tell Alexander what this one means)  
> Mon cœur: My heart  
> Mon petit lion: My little lion


End file.
